Crucible
by Lady Liadan
Summary: 100 Drabbles Challenge - what would the year of Deathly Hallows have felt like from Lucius Malfoy's perspective? Read all about it in his diary - 100 drabbles, 100 pages of memories...
1. Mercurius

**Crucible**

_100 Drabbles, 100 Entries into Lucius Malfoy's Diary_

The original series was a Drabble challenge in German and was published at www . alraune . winterwitch. de, and the original drabbles each have a word-count of exactly 100 words. However, while I have tried to keep the translations as closely as possible to the 100 words of the German text, some will have the odd word more or less. The headline above each drabble signifies a work from the challenge table with the number that indicated its place on the table.

* * *

**1. to sleep (23)**

Malfoy Manor, June 29th

Perdurabo – I shall endure – the sleepless nights in chains and icy cold and the guards' casual cruelty – which mudblood would not relish the chance to finally pay back a Malfoy?

Perdurabo – I shall endure – and find those who sent me to hell to take my revenge on them all.

Perdurabo – I shall endure – the silent reproach in Narcissa's eyes and the Dark Mark burned into Draco's arm when I wasn't there to protect him.

Perdurabo – I shall endure – the need to be grateful to the Dark Lord despite it all, because his power set me free.

* * *

**2. Robe (12)**

Malfoy Manor, July 1st

Merlin's underpants! This morning the house-elves fitted my robes, and nothing sits right. Everything is a pitiful two sizes too large. How in hell can I show up at the Ministry looking like that and make a dignified impression?

Narcissa suggested a shopping trip to London, but I'm hardly in the mood for that. Finances are not looking too rosy at the moment, plus I have nothing to wear to leave the house in the first place.

Time to swap my quill for my wand – hope I'm not completely out of practice after one year.

* * *

**3. Rain (72)**

Malfoy Manor, July 3rd

Her fingers trace a scar she has not seen before. I'm lying next to her, listening to the summer-rain whispering against the windows. She lifts herself on one elbow and looks at me.

"How was it?" she asks quietly, and I know she isn't referring to the way we spent the last hour.

It's the question we've been skirting for days now. A thousand memories I don't want and she doesn't need. But I have never lied to her. I try to conjure a smile.

"I missed you so much there, Narcissa," I answer her.

* * *

**4. Cowslip Flower (04)**

Malfoy Manor, July 4th

My son sprawls on the sofa in the drawing room, shoes on the brocade covers. He hasn't seen me. I'm opening my lips for a cutting remark when I see him angle his left arm and press it against his chest.

I know the gesture well: it's like worms crawling under the skin, but scratching only makes it worse.

I sit down next to him, pull a flat container out of my coat-pocket.

"Your mother's cowslip salve. Take it, it helps."

He looks at me, finally sits up and briefly hesitates, then rolls up his sleeve…

**5. Past (50)**

... I see the familiar outlines of the skull-and-snake. Draco's mark seems darker, more sharply defined than mine.

"Why?" I ask him as he rubs in the honey-colored cream.

He looks at me and shrugs: "Why did you do it then, father?"

I think back to my past, try to remember. I wasn't much older than Draco.

"The wish for power, to belong to something greater, the knowledge that others would fear me."

The words sound hollow now, but he nods as if I had expressed his sentiments. How can I judge him, when he's so like me?

* * *

**6. Devil (69)**

Malfoy Manor, July 6th

Make a pact with the devil and you'll be made to pay: today I've paid for my freedom – with a new prison sentence. This time I will serve it in my own home.

Of course the Dark Lord does not trouble himself any more with telling me personally. He sends his servants, and this miserable slimy rat of a Gryffindor has informed us today we have the "incredible honor" to serve His Lordship and all Death Eaters as the new headquarters. I would have loved to squash the little cockroach. Instead Narcissa had the guest rooms prepared…

* * *

**7. to brew (32)**

Malfoy Manor, July 14th

It would be slander to maintain that Slytherins are anything but pragmatic, which means for us the end justifies the means.

I know I have been accused of passing lethal dark arts objects to little girls, using the Unforgivables and personally attacking Hogwarts students, but if it serves to stop blood traitors or to obstruct the harebrained pro-muggle policies of the Ministry, I believe these means are entirely appropriate. You just can't brew potions without crushing a few herbs.

However, now my new house-guests have given me a whole new perspective on the "means"…

**8. Bone (20)**

... there's McNair who keeps spitting on our priceless rugs, Greyback who's chasing the peacocks through the park at full moon – not to mention that chewed-upon eight-year-old, who we needed to obliviate before we could let him go.

Bellatrix's and Rodolphus' constant yelling at each other is a marriage nightmare. And on every nightly trip to the bathroom one stumbles over Nagini who has the run of the manor if she's not in the garden regurgitating suspicious-looking bones…

If these are the "means" to take over society, even a Slytherin like me starts having doubts. These people are a catastrophe!

* * *

**9. Dungeon (06)**

Malfoy Manor, July 17th

I am the first to honor my illustrious ancestors, but old Mordred Malfoy was a complete moron! How can you build a dungeon right underneath your living-room?! So far it hasn't bothered me, because we only stashed our dark arts items in it, but now the Dark Lord uses it for prisoners…

Yesterday he and Wormtail were all over the kidnapped Ollivander down there: something about wands.

Must have been very unpleasant for the guy, because there was much screaming involved.

And I'm supposed to sit here and read the Daily Prophet over this racket?!

* * *

**10. Peppermint (30)**

Malfoy Manor, July 20th

Severus is visiting. He sips a glass of peppermint tea and I am racking my brains how I can thank him for saving Draco's ass last summer by finally killing Dumbledore. I cannot think of anything that won't make me look like a complete looser of a father.

Finally I decide to change the topic: "At least we won't have to put up with such nonsense as muggle studies anymore".

Black, expressionless eyes stare at me. Severus puts down his tea.

"The change in curriculum is hanging from your dining room ceiling, in case you hadn't noticed".

**

* * *

11. Wand (92)**

Malfoy Manor, July 20th, evening

A hand before the abyss – a hand in deepest darkness – her hand...

"Lucius, I see no reason for you to have a wand anymore," rasps his voice. Ruby and blood pierce me, gaze into the depths of my soul, dive into the black waters of my despair and wallow in them with swinish abandon. And before the eyes of everyone I surrender what makes me who I am. I am surrounded by leering, malicious gloating faces.

"Elm and dragon heartstring, My Lord..."

Her hand – cool, determined, calm – in deepest darkness it is all that remains to me.

**

* * *

12. to try (59)**

Malfoy Manor, July 21st

The house is quiet, grey morning light filters through the high windows. Narcissa seems lost between the tangled sheets and looks at me.

"The beginning of the end," she murmurs, but there is no rebuke in her voice, just dispassionate acceptance.

A moment later, however, she makes a decisive movement over to her night table and proffers me her wand.

"Here, try it, Lucius," she encourages me.

My fingers curl gratefully around light and unfamiliar wood – yew and Veela-hair, 13 inches.

I cast and point at a pillow: "Wingardium Leviosa!"

And the whole bedroom transforms into a blizzard of exploding feathers…

**

* * *

13. Death (87)**

Malfoy Manor, July 23rd

He is back in the dining room in front of the long table, his narrow shoulders raised, and stares into empty space where four days ago a woman was grotesquely suspended from the ceiling. His hand rakes through blond hair. He turns and cringes as he sees me.

I recall him falling out of his chair as the body of the dead teacher crashes onto the table, but it was not the only black moment for us on that fateful evening.

He licks his lips nervously: "Father..."

I gesture for him to be quiet.

**14. bitter (65)**

I was tougher at his age, and as bitter as it may seem, he has to catch up, or he will perish.

"What is your point, Draco? A blood traitor is dead. You either accept that or you will be next."

He looks as if he'd love to run away, but then it bursts out of him: "It does not have to be this way, father. He – he said he can protect us, if we…"

I stare at him: "Who?!"

"D-d-dumbledore," he stammers.

I do not hesitate for one second as I backhand him across the face. To leave him with this mad, impossible hope would be the crueler choice.

* * *

**15. Broom (27)**

Malfoy Manor, July 27th

The jumbled voices of the fighters are just an echo: "Crazy, did you see how he swiped Moody off his broom?" – "Man, Rodolphus is pretty beat up, don'tcha think?" – "We didn't get that damn Potter brat – again!"

Stomping steps disperse throughout the house – the Dark Lord and Wormtail have a few interesting questions for Ollivander, the rest of the troop are on their way to the kitchens or to their rooms.

I remain alone in the entrance hall, stare at the slivers of elm-wood in my hands and still hear the oily voice hissing into my ear: „Even your wand is useless, Malfoy!"

* * *

**16. Primrose (08)**

Malfoy Manor, July 29

She sits by herself on a bench in the park, perfect as ever: grey silk, coiffed hair, her slender back straight. She looks away from the house and picks apart white primrose blossoms from a bush beside the bench.

I used to tease her about this restlessness in her hands.

For a moment I consider going to her, but I have nothing to say to her that the hundred ears in this house could hear. Regret is not an option for Death Eaters, and it would be a poor response to her strength.

I close the curtains against my moment of weakness and return to my business accounting.

* * *

**17. Power (56)**

Malfoy Manor, July 31st

I watch my owl cleaning his feathers over on the window sill and reread the parchment – the pieces are in place: Thicknesse imperiused, the reporters at the Daily Prophet bribed, key positions at the Ministry filled with our people. Tomorrow the power will be ours and the rule of the magical world will fall into our hands like a ripened fruit.

I feel no sense of triumph: my participation is inconsequential, even unwanted, my money barely good enough for bribes. My son takes my place now, and I can only hope that he will survive tomorrow's revolt.

**

* * *

18. to stumble (35)**

Malfoy Manor, August 1st

He walks up to the house accompanied by four hooded figures. In the evening light his tousled hair shines brightly among the dark robes. I recognize Bellatrix and Dolohov, who accompany him. Narcissa's hand closes around mine.

"He's alive," she whispers.

I release her, so she can walk to meet him. In the entrance hall he breaks away from the group of Death Eaters, stumbles towards her. She catches him, holds him.

"Rowle," he retches. "I'm gonna be sick!"

Bella laughs raucously; she pats him on the shoulder in a show of good humor. – "Come on, that wasn't half bad for your first cruciatus…"

**

* * *

19. Frog Spawn (42)**

Malfoy Manor, August 3rd

We have a new house elf. Since Malfoy Manor serves as our headquarters the servants are at a point where even self-inflicted punishment does not do the trick any more. The replacement for Dobby is spindly as a stick, terribly nervous since he's been put into bondage to the family and of indeterminable sex.

Today "it" was supposed to help out in the kitchens. I secretly observe our guests, but so far no one has complained about the food. When I finally relax and turn to my desert, the cold voice of the Dark Lord interrupts me.

„What IS this? Frog spawn?!"

Horrified I stare into the small glass bowl in front of me: tapioca pudding! That's it, I'm a goner!

**

* * *

20. sour (62)**

London, August 8th

The air is still and it is terribly hot. Boredom, however, makes for the worst torment. I've been watching Jugson for over an hour now as he secretly picks his nose when he thinks I am not paying attention. The view is only marginally more interesting than the grey, dirty walls of the two houses with the numbers 11 and 13. Nothing is stirring between them.

A soft rustle breaks my train of thoughts.

Jugson has pulled a paper bag from his greasy robes and digs around in it with his fat sausage fingers, then he offers the bag to me: "Sour drops, Lucius?"

I politely decline.

**

* * *

21. Hemlock (41)**

London, August 9th

Changing of the guard: I have let Rodolphus and Dolohov talk me into coming to the Leaky Cauldron with them. The landlord pushes a fire whisky towards me with a face as if he wished it were a cup of essence of hemlock.

A few wizards at the next table are trying to curry favor with us and raise their drinks: "About time you were released, Mr. Malfoy!" "Miscarriage of justice." "Congratulations!"

Others regard us with fear or hatred – they would probably have things to say as well, but do not dare. Cross a Death Eater and you disappear.

Scum! I despise them equally, the turncoats as much as the cowards who do not dare to spit at our feet.

* * *

**22. Werewolf (64)**

Malfoy Manor, August 10th

I can see it in her eyes – for a moment they widen with fear, then they become narrow, cold, dark with hatred. She gathers her robes across her chest and I can hear her words before she even opens her mouth: "Come, Draco..."

The boy shivers, blinks and follows his mother out of the room. She does not look back. I watch them, silent and motionless. Fenrir Greyback leans against the wall, licks his lips and stares after them.

Then he turns to me, grins brazenly: "Next time, eh, Malfoy?"

**

* * *

23. Midnight (91)**

Malfoy Manor, August 13th

Midnight, but on my way to the bedroom I hear the decisive sounds of an incantation behind Draco's door. I knock and open. There he stands in his pajamas, in the middle of the room, his wand at the ready.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing, father."

"I can see that!"

He hesitates.

"Potter taught this to his fellow students last term. We know from Umbridge's interrogations."

"Show me."

He looks at me, a sudden grin on his face, then a powerful swish of his wand.

" Expecto patronum!"

Shimmering light surrounds us and I see a small, glowing white ferret rush up my trouser-leg and curl up on my shoulder…

**24. to learn (99)**

...the little creature of light seems completely at ease and very playful. As I stretch out my arm it runs along my shirtsleeve and rubs its furry head against my hand.

I know the magic – Draco possesses talent, no doubt of that.

" You know that the dementors are officially our allies. Why would you learn the patronus?"

The ferret fades. My son nods silently. I wave my last remark aside.

"What was your visualization?" I ask instead.

Now the grin is back.

"Our very first flight demonstration for Mama. Do you remember, she nearly got a heart attack when I flew that double looping: she was so cross with us, and we had to laugh so hard!"

**

* * *

25. Pillory (40)**

Malfoy Manor, August 21st

He is finally gone!

I watch the house elves drag long strips of yellowed old snakeskin out of his bedroom and feel as if I had just been released from Azkaban all over again.

We are no longer in the pillory: in the morning when his calculating red eyes regard me across his teacup and every look reminds me again that I have lost the game, that he can eliminate me and my family at any time; in the evening when his henchmen gather around him, lick his boots, make their reports and like dumb dogs slavishly wait for their punishment or their commendation.

He is finally gone!

**

* * *

26. King (44)**

London, September 1st

You can feel the change in the air – where all these years muggle scum brazenly loitered on the platform sending off their brats, there are now only true witches and wizards, escorting their children to the train.

Narcissa is wearing her new velvet robes and walks nonchalantly by my side. Draco strides next to us leading two house-elves that nearly disappear under his luggage.

Inconspicuously I poke him with my cane.

"Don't slouch, Draco," I hiss at him.

No matter what has happened, this year Draco will be again the uncrowned king of Slytherin.

* * *

**27. Raven (79)**

Malfoy Manor, September 2nd

Since our school-days he has reminded me of a raven – the feathers dipped in dark oil, hook-beaked he perches, his shoulders slightly lifted, head tilted sideways in mockery. He is intelligent, but you never quite know what happens behind those black, alert eyes. He is agile, and yet never quite amounts to anything. His cynicism matches his ill fortune.

Still, he has been a reliable ally over the years – my expert and my poisoner at need, a good mentor for Draco and a support for Narcissa in my absence. I dip my feather in ink:

„Dear Severus,

Congratulations upon your appointment as the headmaster of Hogwarts..."

* * *

**28. to gather (38)**

Malfoy Manor, September 7th

The house has emptied – since their master is traveling by himself and his commands to not gather them around him anymore, most of the Death Eaters have left. I am stuck with three homeless remnants that I would not mind loosing as well...

Wormtail whose alternative residence would have to be a rat cage is skulking around the dungeons and pretends to guard our prisoners. Bella stays because this is the closest she can get to the Dark Lord. He has refused her offer to accompany him to the continent. Rodolphus shows grim faithfulness. He has already followed his wife to Azkaban, and Malfoy Manor is rather less of a sacrifice.

**

* * *

29. Toad (31)**

Malfoy Manor, September 12th

I suppress my disgust at the cowering, toad-like man and stop Pettigrew on his way to the corner he has chosen for his bedding in the cellars. He fawns at me, embarrassed, and scrapes his feet.

I waste no time on pleasantries: "Why have you searched for Him and brought him back?"

He winces and touches his throat with his strange silvery Hand.

"Wh-what do you mean, Mr. Malfoy?"

He trembles.

„Y-you know yourself what he does to those who have not searched for him. Even me, so faithful, so devoted... my hand..."

I am beginning to understand.

**

* * *

30. Writer's Choice – Fear (20)**

Fear is all that this man knows, that even chained him to the Dark Lord when he was destroyed, when Wormtail could have been free. And he has nothing more to lose than his own miserable worthless little life.

"Mr. Malfoy?"

A short scornful gesture shuts him up. I am done with him and walk away.

However, the uncomfortable question remains: am I like Pettigrew?

Yes I am afraid of Him. I would be a fool if I wasn't. I dread what he could do to my family, but I am not possessed by my fear. If Draco and Narcissa were safe I could even afford the luxury of bravery.


	2. Sulfur

**31. Lawn/Meadow (03)**

Malfoy Manor, September 13th

If it's fear that binds Wormtail to You Know Who, then the question remains what motivates my sister-in-law to her faithfulness. I find Bellatrix on the lawn behind the house. She leans against a stone urn and looks at the trees in the park that are changing from green to gold.

She glances at me as I step to her side and then stares straight ahead again.

"You wish He was here," I say.

"Yes," she admits truthfully. "You on the other hand cannot hide your pleasure at being rid of him. You never truly supported him. I despise you for your opportunism."

**32. Wisdom (84)**

Subtlety is not exactly Bella's strong point, but that is quite useful to me right now.

"Twelve years in Azkaban," I do not bother to hide the scorn in my voice. "You know I am finally in the unique position to be able to appreciate your sacrifice. You must have been crazy to suffer this for him. And when it comes down to it, he doesn't even care."

She spins around in an instant and for one panicked moment I have to think about my destroyed wand – very wise to bait her like that, Lucius!

Then I see the despair in her eyes as she stares at me in anger and hurt. "There is nothing I would not do for him, nothing I would not endure!"

**33. Well (88)**

I calm her with a few platitudes and walk away. Like Pettigrew before her she has made her motivation more than clear to me. Fear and now desire – both seem unbreakable chains that hold these two to the Dark Lord.

If it is not Pettigrew's naked terror that compels me, could it be desire?

No, I am not his slave like my crazy sister-in-law, and yet it was another kind of desire that brought me to the Death Eaters: the need to draw from this well of power and magical potency, to use the tremendous abilities of Slytherin's heir to shape the world as I saw fit.

**34. Conflict (61)**

Now I have the overwhelming wish to lose both – no fear and no desire. Could I be free if I managed it?

„Non serviam!" Lucifer's credo: I will not serve. I whisper the words as I step back into the house, repeat them, louder, and again. I relish the amazing feeling of defiance that floods me.

But I also know that I cannot risk open conflict unless I want to commit suicide or sacrifice my family. I have made my decision a long time ago, and now I have to live with the consequences.

And yet – "Non serviam..."

**

* * *

35. Oriel (33)**

Malfoy Manor, September 25th

I am sitting in the south oriel of the library, as far removed from my temptation as possible and contemplate my options.

The more time passes, the longer He is gallivanting around the Continent the more I have to think about the man who rots in my dungeon – forgotten and useless. Only a few walls separate me from a word-famous wandmaker.

Even Wormtail got a new one from him. And I am suffering from my loss about a hundred times a day, every time I instinctively reach for my wand and come up empty. But do I dare to defy You Know Who in this matter?

"Lucius, I see no reason for you to have a wand anymore." Damned!

**

* * *

36. to smell (58)**

Malfoy Manor, October 1st

My mind is made up, and if I die for my decision, at least I die as a wizard. I have sent Wormtail away on some errand and now use Narcissa's borrowed wand in a rough and ready attempt to remove the wards from the dungeon cell. The heavy door opens on creaky hinges.

The stench coming at me makes me gag for a moment before I manage a spell for light. Olivander is a skeletal bundle of rags at the other end of the vaulted room. With a moan he lifts himself up and blinks into the light.

I step up to him. He is hardly in a position to refuse me.

"I can offer you a trade, Ollivander."

**

* * *

37. Medicinal Herbs (10)**

Malfoy Manor, October 5th

I watch as a house elf carefully wraps medicinal herbs around Ollivander's worst injuries. This covers my part of the bargain. There will not be much time until Pettigrew returns, but underneath my robes I feel the reassuring shape of a wooden wand: fourteen and a half inches, resilient, elm and dragon heartstring.

It is simply carved without the elegant, turned ornaments of my old wand, and I know that I have to keep it hidden and still cannot perform magic in the open. But none of this counts right now. The only thing that counts is the fact that I am myself again.

I would love to shout at the top of my lungs: „Non serviam!"

**

* * *

38. Cat (49)**

Malfoy Manor, October 10th

I look up from the pages of my book and watch Narcissa's Abyssinian cat strut into my office, tail held high. She carries something feathery in her mouth and lays it down at my feet. Then she rubs her head invitingly against my legs.

Of course, the small unlucky sparrow is a present, and she feels entitled to a reward. I sigh, put the grimoire to the side, lift her onto my lap and stroke her, as a well-trained human should. She purrs happily. Everything is right with the world.

And then the whole scene suddenly transforms in my mind.

**39. Sorcerer (26)**

While I clap and order a house elf to get rid of the bird, I begin to understand that I and dozens of other wizards have been laboring under the same premise as our cat for years now. Whoever manages to present You Know Who with young Potter could also count on the reward of our master sorcerer – though I think I'd pass on the bit where I rub my face against his legs.

The absurdity of the scene makes me laugh out loud. It scares Isis, who leaps back onto the floor.

The Death Eaters, nothing like a pride of frustrated cats who cannot catch their bird. How could we let things get out of hand like that?

**

* * *

40. Writer's Choice Feast – Halloween (98)**

At the Crabbes, Oktober 31st

Narcissa and I have a Halloween invitation to the Crabbes.

Though we do not really feel like celebrating, it is still important to keep up appearances, and perhaps we could both do with a few hours of distraction.

Narcissa has chosen a low-cut, tight, black velvet gown that seems to help me with the distraction part just fine. As I lead her through all the matronly witches to the dance floor and see out of the corner of my eye how all men just stare after her, I have to admit that I am left with a lot worth living and fighting for…

**

* * *

41. Saffron (19)**

Malfoy Manor, November 5th

The green glass bottle is empty. Panicked I turn it over and shake it, but there is not a single drop left. I wrap a towel around my hips and walk back into the bedroom.

"Cissy?"

She is half asleep, yawns at me and casts a disapproving look at my wet hair. I know that I need all my skills of persuasion, because she hates the intense scent of saffron. Unfortunately it is one of the main ingredients, and no one mixes the tincture quite as well as her.

I try my most charming smile.

„Sweetheart, we are out of hair conditioner..."

**

* * *

42. Laziness (86)**

Malfoy Manor, December 3rd

It is the first snow this year, and time for a walk. I help Narcissa into her warm fur robes and whistle for the dogs. Castor and Pollux are nearly impossible to restrain, and 100 pound of Irish wolf hound can be a handful!

My wife grasps Pollux's shaggy fur and laughs: "You only bought these two, my love, in order to annoy the house elves…"

I shrug at her remark and stroke over the chased silver serpent head of my cane, which hides a wand again.

"That lazy lot has nothing else to do when Draco's at school."

**43. Snow (23)**

We leave the house and park behind and turn into a narrow country lane. The dogs run before us, sniff the snow and race back to us barking excitedly. I share their feeling of wild freedom: nothing around us but the wintry rolling hills of Wiltshire. The small muggle cottages here and there are buried under their white load – one can almost pretend they are not even there.

Instead old stone circles remind me of the magical history of this part of England. We Malfoys have lived here continuously since Reynard de Mal-Foi received this settlement from William the Conqueror. Without his magical abilities the Battle of Hastings would have had quite a different outcome…

**44. Rock (82)**

I needed this excursion, these memories, and as I look into Narcissa's blushing face with her clear eyes I know that she feels the same. We have no spies or eavesdroppers around us. As we reach a small dell we stop.

"We will make it," she insists and grasps my hands. She is, as always, my rock. "Our families have survived the Inquisition and the goblin wars. This here is nothing. We will survive and we will triumph!"

"He is immortal, after all..." I reply, urging caution.

She shakes her head: "He seems too afraid for me to be able to truly believe that."

**

* * *

45. Ginger (25)**

Malfoy Manor, December 20th

Draco has come home for the holidays. He has thrived during the last months at Hogwarts and seems much more relaxed than during all the turmoil last summer. Narcissa is happy and plies him with cinnamon stars and ginger snaps.

Peace, however, proves elusive. As I step out of the salon, two Death Eaters appear in the entrance hall, Travers and Selwyn. They guffaw as they restrain a blond girl between them. The girl writhes under their hands and begs them to release her. The ruckus disturbs Draco, who joins me.

"What is the meaning of this?" I bark at my visitors. "Who is this?!"

Draco answers in their stead.

"Luna Lovegood."

**46. Hair (68)**

"Potter's little girlfriend isn't she?!" Travers grins and shoves her against Selwyn. "Her father is a buddy of the Weasleys, the blood traitors!"

Selwyn grabs her thick, long hair, so she cannot turn her face away. "We'll tell your old man he'll only get you back, when he helps us catch Potter."

She sobs. Draco is now standing by my side. I know Xenophilus Lovegood. The man is a complete nutcase, but harmless, and the family is pureblood. The idea that Lovegood should be able to entrap Potter, is simply absurd.

I look at my son.

"Is this true?"

**47. sweet (63)**

Draco shrugs his shoulders. "She is in Ravenclaw, but I've never seen her together with Potter."

Luna is looking at me out of huge, blue eyes. Her pupils are dilated with fear. I suddenly notice that for some strange reason she is wearing a pair of small radishes for earrings.

The two Death Eaters relish their victim's terror.

"You know what?" Selwyn threatens her: "We won't tell your father what you'll look like when he'll get you back. No reason why my friend here and I can't have a little fun with you first. Such a sweet little thing, eh?"

Travers moves closer and starts groping her while Selwyn restrains her.

**48. Suit of Armor (05)**

She does not resist any more, but she is still looking at me: a young pureblood witch, the same age as my son.

My decision is final.

I quickly step up to her, grab her roughly and shove her towards Draco, who manages to catch her before she stumbles into the suit of armor by the front door. We cannot appear weak now or we'll lose everything.

„Put her into the dungeons with Ollivander," I command my son. Then I grasp Selwyn by his robes.

„Do you think I run a whore-house?" I hiss at him. "And now get lost, you pigs. When Lovegood catches Potter, he can have her back!"

**

* * *

49. Mistletoe (21)**

Malfoy Manor, December 21st

Yesterday Narcissa put up a sprig of mistletoe in the entrance hall, but as we meet there today, she does not kiss me. Instead she lays a finger on my lips and pulls me along with her down the corridor.

And then I see her – Bella, who is loitering around the staircase, her eyes glued to the door of the salon where now chairs scrape along the floor. The doors open and You Know Who struts right into her trap. Bella dashes toward him, loses her nerve at the last minute and quickly squeezes past him with an awkward little bow.

Next to me I hear Narcissa giggle quietly. She deserves a little fun.

**

* * *

50. Cauldron (67)**

Malfoy Manor, December 27th

The only Yule I can remember that was worse than this one I spent in Azkaban last year. The icy cold had put me in the prison hospital with double pneumonia, and my only recollection of the holidays consists of a tormenting, feverish cough and forcing down cauldron after cauldron of bitter astralagus and salvia potion.

With You Know Who as our guest this year these memories almost fill me with a sense of nostalgia.

I guess the only bright spot is the fact that no family member got crucioed, but with him at our table the whole affair felt more like a funeral feast. At least he liked Narcissa's gift of a set of black silk robes.

**

* * *

51. Holly (22)**

Malfoy Manor, Januar 2nd

He sits in the salon at a table: his long fingers play with one of the left-over holly decorations. I am about to withdraw with a murmured excuse, but he waves me to stay.

I pull up a chair and sit down. Red eyes scrutinize me for a moment.

"You have a question," he says.

"Yes, my Lord. My imprisonment. You have done nothing against my sentence. Why did you change your mind after one year?"

He folds his hands.

"There was no change of mind, Lucius. I needed you for the take-over; otherwise you would still be in Azkaban."

**52. harsh (64)**

The callous, direct answer seems harsh, but how could I have credited him with anything but the purest egotism for his motives.

"That's not your only question," he states.

Bloody legilimency! Only the truth will help me now.

"Why this implacable need for revenge, My Lord? Others have failed you worse than me. Have we not paid enough for the defeat at the Ministry? And my son is not even guilty of my failure."

Now his lipless mouth twists in a cynical smile.

"Lucius, Lucius, you have no clue what you are really paying for, have you? But that should not surprise me."

**53. Writer's Choice – blond (60)**

"You know, muggles have a rather amusing custom. They tell each other a kind of joke that implies that blondes have about the intelligence of mountain trolls."

I try to keep my cool at this monstrous insult, but of course he still reads my indignation in my eyes.

"You are angry now, Lucius, but I will prove your inexcusable stupidity to you.

Several years ago I gave you a small black book with empty pages. I ordered you to protect this book with your life, because it meant everything to me. You promised me under oath to do so. What happened to that book?"

**54. Tournament (15)**

I swallow. The damn diary!

"My Lord, I saw a chance to win an important victory for us. If the heir of Slytherin had killed all the mudbloods at school, as I had intended, and Dumbeldore had been dismissed, our cause would have…"

"Silence!" His voice is sharp and cold as steel.

"Do not lie to me! While others of my followers, such as young Bartemius risked their life during the Triwizard Tournament to serve me, you frittered away my absence to fight your private little war with Arthur Weasley. This book was my life to me!"

**55. Spice (90)**

I am lost for arguments. Am I as intelligent as a mountain troll? At this moment You Know Who almost has me convinced.

„You thought I was dead," he unmasks me. "You thought you could use my inheritance to spice up your little plots and intrigues to get some leverage for yourself."

He leans forward.

"You dare complain about the way I am treating you, Lucius? If your money and influence had not helped me these past years, you and your family would be long gone. Personally I think you still have it way too good!"

**

* * *

56. Bard (14)**

Malfoy Manor, January 12th

Our holiday guests have finally left us. I find Narcissa in Draco's room. She sits on his empty bed and stares out of the window down into the foggy park.

I know what bothers her, kiss her wordlessly and sit down next to her. She grasps my hand and then I see the old, well-thumbed book on her lap: _The Stories of Beedle, the Bard_.

I remember every detail: the pages with the obscene story of _The Fountain of Fair Fortune_ that I had carefully removed with a paper knife, the dog-ear on page 12 and Draco's little scribble of the three brothers and Death.

"He is so alone," she says.

**57. Winter (45)**

I seek to calm her: "Cissy, he's never had so many allies there: the Carrows at school and Severus as headmaster. There is no more Dumbledore, no Hagrid, no murderous hippogriff."

She looks at me, grey winter light in her narrow eyes.

"Then tell me why I am more worried about him now than in all the years before?"

I have no answer for her.

She leans against me.

"He should not have had to grow up so fast..."

I feel my failure bear down on me like a lead weight, but her embrace distracts me.

"Not you," she says quietly. "It is His fault."

* * *

**58. Tea (24)**

London, February 14th

The conversations in Madam Greene's half-empty tea parlor seem rather hushed. It's raining outside. I am used to being stared at like a quintaped on my occasional business visits to London – with a mix of horror and fascination – but Narcissa, who is talking with Mrs. Parkinson over a cup of lapsang souchong seems slightly irritated by the attention. She keeps looking up and pushing her hair behind her left ear with a quick, nervous gesture.

My companions are captivated by their analysis of the relationship between Draco and Pansy, but I am now simply bored and start to plot an innocuous retreat

**59. Writer's Choice - Oats (80)**

Finally I come up with a rescue plan. I put down my cup and lean over to my wife.

"My dear, I hope you will forgive me my desertion, but I would like to organize another birthday surprise for you."

She smiles delightedly, as I expected. She has never been able to resist the idea of a present.

Mrs. Parkinson hardly acknowledges my farewell, but simply continues droning on in her usual manner. As a potential mother-in-law she is simply beyond the pale.

Perhaps I should talk to Draco about Pansy after all. He is welcome to sow his wild oats with her, but there are limits, after all!

**60. Author's Choice – Silver (100)**

After the stuffy atmosphere of the tea parlor the cool, rainy air is a very welcome relief. I lightly touch my cane and murmur a quiet _repellio_ to avoid getting wet.

A few shops down I pause before a window display. The jewelry decoration at _Morton & Magpie_ is unchanged and in the right-hand corner stands a black velvet-covered bust with an exquisite silver choker: two narrow chains end in faceted onyx beads. Attached to them is a beautiful twisted silver snake with detailed, scaly skin and tiny emeralds for eyes.

As I grasp the chased silver handle of the shop door I know this will be the perfect present for Narcissa.


	3. Sal

**61. to taste (57)**

Malfoy Manor, March 24th

The werewolf and his mates are back, stomping into our living room with their usual mix of dubious body odor and churlish manners, but this time they are here to deliver our salvation: four children and a goblin – a Weasley, that Granger slut, and – if only Draco had eyes in his head – HARRY POTTER!

Merlin, if we should have succeeded in securing Potter for the Dark Lord. For a moment I am reminded of our cat with her sparrow, but I can't be bothered right now. Who cares!? We can rehabilitate ourselves. Everything will be forgotten. I can already taste victory on the tip of my tongue!

**62. Jealousy (54)**

I am not the only one to realize it. Bellatrix wants to be the first to call Him and keep all the glory for herself. Not with me you crazy bitch!

I restrain her, even go so far as to physically prevent her from touching her mark. She in turn insults me for losing my wand. The masks finally fall. I feel a surge of pure jealousy: this is for me, for Draco, for Narcissa, not for Bella's ridiculous obsession! I would do anything!

But then she stops herself: the children have Gryffindor's sword, and I have never seen her panic like that!

**63. to color (36)**

Whether I want to or not, she takes command. I do not dare to reveal my hidden wand to her, and she is so far beside herself she actually sets fire to our living-room carpet. Weasley and bee-sting face are sent to the dungeons, and then she gets to work squeezing a confession out of the mudblood.

I would never admit it in public, but I really detest the _cruciatus_ – the screeching of the victims is just nerve-wracking! You can get a quieter, faster and more reliable confession with a simple _imperio_. Now I have to watch this mudblood howling and writhing on my floor – her face the color of ripe plums. It's simply in such bad taste. Draco looks as if he is actually going to be sick.

**64. Storm (46)**

Suddenly a loud bang below the floor distracts me. I could ignore the hollering of the prisoners, but this seems to be something new.

Merlin, is there no moment of peace? I order Draco to send Pettigrew down to check, before my son really starts heaving up on our scorched carpet.

Bellatrix is now taking apart that filthy goblin. What's her bloody problem with Gryffindor's sword, anyway?

A second later the door is nearly blasted off its hinges and a storm of red hair races towards us. Bella's wand flies away under an _expelliarmus_. I am too slow and out of practice. All I hear is Potter intoning a stupefying charm. Then everything turns black.

**65. Child (78)**

Spit spurts from his lipless mouth: "Where is Potter!?"

From over at the fire place I dumbly stare into the face of my worst nightmare. The room is empty, the captured children are gone. Only my wife, my son and Bellatrix remain. This is the end. He lifts his wand above my sister-in-law.

"Where is he?!"

"Dobby," she croaks and lifts her hands to him in supplication. "Lucius' elf has saved them."

"Crucio!"

Her screams torment my ears. My head hurts. The last spell must have smashed me into the fire-place. I try to loosen my muscles, get some clarity into my thoughts.

How will we survive this latest and perhaps deadliest mistake?

**66. Hatred (77)**

Narcissa looks at me over the shards of our ruined candelabra which somehow is reduced to a twisted mass of metal and vicious glass splinters on our floor. She holds Draco, whose face is covered in blood. What in hell has happened?

Bella's screams fade into tortured gasps and finally stop altogether. His hatred however, is undiminished and now seeks a new target.

I try to keep my composure, but my trembling body betrays me: no help, no power, at the mercy of the merciless.

"Lucius," he hisses, his red eyes boring into me. I stare back in silence, try to prepare for the pain and wait for the inevitable.

**67. Beggar (52)**

For once I have underestimated the perversity of his revenge.

He bends down to me, his mouth twisted in a smile. I must be mad!

"Lucius, I know that you are innocent of this mistake – no wand – after all, what could you have done...?"

He seems to think and leaves me time to panic in earnest. Then he straightens himself.

"No, we must punish those who are truly guilty of failing us."

Two quick steps take him over to my family. The _cruciatus_, and then I hear Draco and Narcissa scream. For the first time in my life I prostrate myself at his feet and beg for mercy.

**68. Revenge (55)**

He turns to me. There is no humanity left in his face. I want to draw my wand: it is all over anyway, but his curse overwhelms me before I can do anything.

'At least it distracts him from Draco and Narcissa,' is my last coherent thought, and then I am trapped in a hell of exploding agony.

The _cruciatus _is not enough for him. I vaguely feel cuts, punches, the cracking of bones. I scream with a sense of impotent revenge and rage: I want to hit this white cold snake-face, want to gouge his red eyes from his skull. I want him to die. It is the only thing that keeps me sane until merciful blackness takes me.

**

* * *

69. Stupidity (85)**

Malfoy Manor, March 25th

All three of us lie side by side in the large bed in Narcissa's and my bedchamber. I feel like death warmed up. My right eye is swollen shut, my left wrist feels broken. The house elves must have brought us here during the night.

At dawn Narcissa wakes, moans, and tries to get her bearings while her eyes keep rolling back under her half-closed lids. I grasp her hand, and slowly she manages to focus on me. She is breathing hard.

"Cissy," I whisper.

She attempts a thin smile and gasps in pain as her waking muscles protest.

"I have messed it all up, Cissa," I blurt out at her sight. "So many horribly stupid mistakes..."

**70. Poisonous (09)**

She swallows a few times, fights down a tremor that shakes her, then she touches my hands with surprising firmness.

"Lucius," she looks at me. "That is not true."

I am about to protest.

"You still believe that muggles and mudbloods are the poison at the core of our world?"

I nod in silence.

"You would do everything to secure a future for Draco that grants him the status he deserves as your pureblood son?"

I shake my head in despair. "That's what I wanted, but this hope his destroyed. In the society we fought for, that the Dark Lord was to govern, there is no place for us anymore."

**71. Horse (16)**

"Then we have only made one mistake," she declares with absolute conviction. "We have bet on the wrong horse. We thought that this sick, sadistic son-of-a bitch would be the ticket. We were blinded by the allure of Slytherin's blood-line and invested our influence and our money to build up this nobody of a half-blood. He would be nothing without us."

I am holding my breath – her eyes blaze with hatred and disdain. She never uses profanities like that.

"We will get our way – if need be without him. That I promise you!"

I stare at my wife. Where does this cast-iron determination come from?

**72. Dragon (47)**

Painfully slowly she sits up, turns away from me and leans over Draco, who still has not regained consciousness. Her finger trail gently over the cuts on his face.

"My little dragon," she whispers and strokes his sweat-slicked hair away from his forehead.

„He will never hurt you again. I promise you!"

Her shoulders tremble and her voice gives her away: it's not her muscles shaking this time – she is crying. And suddenly I understand. It is not her hatred of the Dark Lord, that gives her strength, but the love for our son.

Whatever we need to do we will endure, because it is for Draco.

**

* * *

73. Book (43)**

Malfoy Manor, March 26th

She has repaired the bones in my wrist.

"Hold still," she tells me.

I give her a reproachful look. "I am holding still, dear, just try it. It won't be my first black eye you're taking care of."

She nods: my altercation with Weasley senior in Flourish and Blotts. A hefty folio had been the culprit then…

"Sanguinum resolvo!" she incants, and a moment later I am doubled over in pain: a red-hot poker to the eye might feel about the same. Damn!

She lowers her wand. „That's cursed," she diagnoses my condition. "We won't get rid of this one quite as easily."

**74. Parsley (29)**

With my healthy eye I surreptitiously peer into the mirror hanging on the other wall: I look as if I'd just come back from an all-out bar-brawl at the Hog's Head – not that I would frequent that establishment. It might perhaps help if I shaved...

Instead I am treating my injury with some disgusting green concoction made from parsley and eyebright that the house-elves have come up with.

Narcissa watches me anxiously while Bellatrix runs in circles like some trapped animal and wrings her hands: "We've fallen out of favor. What are we going to do? This house arrest – it is unbearable. We must do something."

Now she is really getting on my nerves.

**75. Author's Choice: House elf (40)**

"Merlin, will you stop whining," I snap at her. She stops in mid-stride and angrily stares at me.

"Whose fault is this damn mess we're in? First you didn't want to call Him, so you'd have time to have your fun with Granger, and when you were finally good and ready it was way too late. Your hesitation let them escape!"

I stand up and get into her face: "And then you have the gall to blame my ex-house elf for it all as if it were somehow my doing! You should be glad you're under house arrest here. If it were up to me I'd throw you out right now!"

**

* * *

76. Fire (53)**

Malfoy Manor, May 1st

I implore Narcissa to stay in the library, no matter what happens. I wish I could do the same, but my arm burns like fire and I know I cannot afford the luxury of absence. In the entrance hall I run into a deathly pale Bellatrix. She does not speak but briefly touches my hand. The gesture is out of character and shows me how desperate she is. Then we both enter the living-room.

You Know Who towers over the small goblin, who grovels on his knees before him. He does not acknowledge us as we take our place among the other Death Eaters.

**77. upside down (95)**

He has the Gringotts employee repeat the horrible news once more: the Lestrange dungeon has been robbed. Why would he put such value one a trifle like a little gold cup?

I have no time to solve the riddle as suddenly all hell breaks loose. The goblin dies first from the Avada and then the madman simply fires killing curses into the crowd. I resist the impulse to draw my hidden wand and instead fight through the thronged bodies to get to the door. No rules apply as panic and death turn everything on its head. I feel Bella's ruthless elbow dig into my ribs while I stumble over the body of a fallen wizard.

Survival is all that counts.

**

* * *

78. Dusk (75)**

Hogwarts, May 2nd

His white flesh seems to phosphoresce in the dusky light of the Shrieking Shack. I wish I was a thousand miles away, with my wife and my son. I do not even know if Draco is still alive. I just can't go on any more, so tired. I'd just like to huddle in this dusty corner and disappear, but I can't.

Why did he take me with him? As far as he knows I am completely useless to him, but perhaps that is the attraction: my battered body, the crumpled robes, the stink of resignation and despair that surrounds me – a heady aroma for a vulture like him.

**79. Ice (74)**

I gather my last shreds of courage. I cannot give up.

"My Lord, I beg you, my son..."

Merlin, how pathetic – is this even my voice? He cuts me off, has seen right through me and his reaction to my distress is cold as ice.

"It is not my fault, if your son is dead, Lucius. He did not come to me like the other Slytherins. Perhaps he has decided to befriend Harry Potter?"

I deny it, although personally at this point I couldn't care less, even if the two wanted to marry each other, as long as Draco is alive.

However, I cannot sway my master. I know that I am just foolishly testing his patience.

**80. Secret (83)**

Absent-mindedly he counters my arguments: I can find no pretext to get away.

Suddenly his eyes fixate on me: "Go, fetch Snape."

For a moment words fail me – no one has ever spoken to me in that tone. Am I his bloody house elf now?

I conceal my outrage and concentrate instead on the strangeness of his command. "Snape, My Lord?"

He does not reveal his secret. I'm just not worth it. „Snape, now... GO!"

Every word hits me like the lash of a whip. I try to get my protesting feet under me. It is hard to see in the darkness with the use of just one eye as I stumble towards the door, relieved to finally be able to put some distance between us.

**81. Forest (70)**

I am staggering through a nightmare – he has murdered Severus, Severus who was his loyal servant all these years. He did not even do it himself. Instead he charmed the man's head into the protective sphere with that disgusting reptile to have him bitten and poisoned. What an ignominious way to die!

I try not to let him see how it affects me, or he would know that I spied on them behind the door as they spoke.

Now he is five steps ahead of me, eager and energetic, making his way back to the Forbidden Forest where most of the Death Eaters are waiting for him. He is ready for Potter. I know that at least in the forest I am back with Narcissa.

**82. Spider (50)**

We reach the clearing where a few hours ago he discovered a nest of gigantic spiders and set the vile creatures on the castle, together with some of his fighters and the giants. Now there is a fire with the silhouettes of the masked Death Eaters looking like grotesque cut-outs against the light.

He calls his lieutenants to him, gives orders; and I shrink away. The glow of the fire lights up Narcissa's hair like spun gold, like a beacon in the darkness.

She sees me, runs up to me and embraces me. "You're alive," she whispers. "Draco?"

I shake my head. "I do not know…"

**83. Smoke (66)**

Time seems to stand still. Narcissa sits next to me and quietly repeats the same litany of despair: "He's all by himself up there with the spiders, giants, Greyback and the Gryffindors. My poor dragon..."

I look at the bizarre shapes of smoke and sparks and try not to think at all.

Bella is speaking with the Dark Lord about Potter. And suddenly the boy is there, simply steps out of the forest. The captive half-breed Hagrid starts to scream, but Rowle silences him quickly.

The two opponents face each other wordlessly. Potter stays completely still and does not even attempt to defend himself as He speaks the killing curse.

**84. to hex (34)**

The murder was almost soundless, but now we have pandemonium on our hands. As Potter crumples to the ground You Know Who also falls. With a screech of panic Bella throws herself over him and shakes him. The Death Eaters run around like headless chickens.

Could history from 17 years ago repeat itself? My tiny spark of hope is extinguished as He sits up a moment later and shakes off Bella's attentions.

"The boy: is he dead?" He looks around him, points his wand at my wife and releases a stinging hex.

„Examine him! Tell me if he is dead."

She has uttered a suppressed cry and now rubs her injured arm as she walks over to the body of the boy.

**85. Ink (96)**

She bends over him and her long open hair sweeps the ground like a curtain. I stare into the inky blackness with my good eye and try to see what is happening.

A moment later she straightens herself. Her clear voice carries across the clearing.

"He is dead!"

The others scream in exultation as she slowly returns to me.

You Know Who is not satisfied by her word. Three times he hurls a torture curse at the boy, strong enough to lift the lifeless body off the floor, but flesh and bone remain quiet and unresponsive. Narcissa stands next to me, shaking like a leaf in the wind.

"It's over," I whisper to her. "He does not feel anything anymore."

**86. Battlement (02)**

A strange procession now sets out towards the castle: You Know Who is apparently ready to pluck the fruits of his victory. The sobbing half-giant is carrying Potter's corpse.

I am dead tired, but finally we are getting closer to Draco. Between the trees I can already see the battlements of the school.

He orders us to stop as we reach the walls while he intones a pompous address about victory and submission and peace: Harry was a coward, killed while he tried to flee, all magical blood is to be spared…

I bite my lips so I don't break out into cynical laughter. What pathetic, lying claptrap: he has tortured, killed and ruined countless purebloods.

**87. Moat (7)**

The defenders behind the castle walls however do not seem to find the speech ridiculous. Cries of despair rend the night as friends and teachers see the dead body of their savior. I feel with them: all hope is gone and we are standing on the shore of a black sea of humiliation, pain and violence. Soon the waves will come crashing over us all.

Then someone breaks away from the throng of spectators, a boy who now sprints across the grassy ditch of the old moat and actually attacks the Dark Lord who disarms him with ease: it is Neville Longbottom. As if he wanted to prove his lies You Know Who actually gives him the option to join his forces of his free will.

**88. Snake (28)**

Longbottom has the spine to refuse, but his punishment is horrible. Narcissa's hands twist in my robes as the boy is lit on fire by the curses of his enemy. However, his cries of pain are drowned out by the sudden thunder of hooves and the yowling of a rather puny-looking giant.

The centaurs have chosen their side. Roaring with anger our giants advance and a general commotion ensues.

However, my eyes return in fascination to the spot where just seconds ago we saw the human torch of the student. Now I catch a glint of steel in the sudden darkness, and then Nagini's scaly head flies in an elegant arch over the heads of the crowd. The Dark Lord cries out like a wounded animal.

**89. Portal (51)**

Narcissa pulls me to the ground as a hippogriff swoops down over the heads of the combatants, grabs a Death Eater in his powerful claws and sails back upwards with a screech.

"Draco!" she cries into my ear. We keep low as we race through the main portal and into the castle. For the first time I draw my wand in public and make no distinction as I throw friend and foe away from us to make way. It feels intoxicating!

"Where is Potter's corpse?" I gasp as we duck behind a column for a short breather. „He was suddenly gone."

Narcissa looks at me with a funny expression and hesitates. "He's not dead," she finally tells me.

**90. Potato (11)**

"What?!?!" my voice nearly snaps. "You lied to the Dark Lord? To his face?!"

Her features harden.

„It is our last hope, Lucius. Do you want to live under the tyranny of this madman?"

My wife – lies to the greatest legilimens of all time – and the moron even believes her! What a woman! I am starting to laugh.

She looks rather baffled by my sudden outburst, but I cannot explain myself. Behind us a door opens and a horde of screaming, potato-faced house elves spills out. They brandish pokers and carving knives and look rather forbidding.

"Come on!"

I drag her away and we race on.

**91. Mandrake (01)**

Our journey becomes more dangerous. Corridors have partly collapsed and the remnants of curses and wards make for unexpected side-effects. Headless statues and suits of armor stumble about. I zap a few of the remaining giant spiders while we continue to call for Draco.

A new commotion seems to loom ahead of us – unearthly screeching makes the very air tremble. Narcissa pulls my sleeve.

"Let's not go that way," she warns me. "Some idiots are throwing mandrake roots."

We quickly turn a corner. Professor Sprout is eccentric enough to think up a plan like that and we have no earmuffs.

And then we see him. He is huddled into a niche in the corridor.

**92. Mourning (89)**

"Draco!" We fall on our knees on either side of him. Narcissa embraces him with the fierceness of a Devil's Snare.

"Mum! Father!" His voice is nearly stifled under his mother's kisses.

I abandon my usual restraint and gather my family in my arms. So much has been lost tonight, but I have everything that matters. I am the wealthiest wizard of England!

Finally Narcissa lets go and I can actually take a look at my son. Other than a split lip and singed robes everything seems to be all right with him. But now he starts crying.

"C-crabbe got burned to death," he sobs. „And I've b-broken your wand, Mum..."

**93. Machicolation (97)**

Narcissa tries to calm him; and while we carefully set out on our retreat, he tells us about the attack on the castle and how he and his friends stayed behind and tried to make up for all of our bad luck by capturing Potter. I am touched by his bravery of risking so much for his family, but I am also angry: as a Slytherin he should know better than to dabble in stupid heroics.

On top of it all he now carries a life debt to Potter who rescued him from the fire. Talk about stepping right underneath a big, fat machicolation! I hope I will have the time to talk to the boy about his choices later.

**94. Love (76)**

The Great Hall is pretty quiet for a scene of battle. Enemies and friends line the walls and watch two people circling each other with lifted wands. They are not fighting yet, just talking.

I stop paying attention as I suddenly feel Narcissa stagger against me. On the floor before us lies the prostate body of her sister, her thick black tresses frame her white, aged face; the hard eyes stare unseeing at the ceiling.

My wife bends down and closes the dead woman's lids. They never had much love for one another, but I feel sorry for Narcissa.

**95. Unicorn (23)**

A moment later the exchange between Potter and the Dark Lord attracts my attention. „The master of the elder wand was Draco Malfoy," the boy explains to his opponent.

You Know Who looks shocked for a moment, but recovers quickly and threatens the boy: "... and when I have killed you I will take care of Draco Malfoy…"

I clench my fists. Over my dead body!

"Too late," smiles Potter. "You have missed your chance. I was there first. I overpowered Draco weeks ago and took his wand." He holds up a wand made of light wood. I recognize it – hawthorn and unicorn hair, Draco's wand.

**96. Phoenix (81)**

Potter's voice is quiet now: "So it all comes down to this, doesn't it? Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does… I am the true master of the Elder Wand."

Suddenly the blazing light of the new sun illuminates the hall like the glow of a phoenix rising from fire and it seems to be the signal the two opponents have been waiting for. Two voices ring out at the same time – an _Avada_ and an _Expelliarmus_. There is a terrible bang, the Elder Wand flies up in the air, but Putter catches it with ease, and my nemesis is reduced to a black bundle of robes on the floor.

**97. Duel (17)**

The result of the duel plunges the hall into an indescribable uproar. I am afraid the crumbling walls will finally collapse completely. Everyone is screaming and shouting at the top of their lungs, while Draco, Narcissa and I look at each other in silence.

Our nightmare is over, but what will our future be, now that we count among the vanquished?

Suddenly Narcissa points at my face. I blink – with both eyes! The bright light hurts, but my fingers feel no more swelling, I can see again. Relief floods me as the curse is broken at Voldemort's death.

Around us people embrace each other, weep, laugh, cry.

**98. Great Hall (18)**

The noise nearly overwhelms me, but before I can say anything, Narcissa takes Draco and me by the hand and steers us into a quieter corner of the Hall, where some chairs and tables have survived. We sit down.

I can see that she has cried, not for the Dark Lord, who she has helped kill by keeping Potter's secret, but for her sister. We put our arms around one another, reunited under the morning sun and for the moment in safety.

Draco looks up once, and we see Potter walk by. He glances over in our direction and curtly nods to my wife.

**99. Flower Wreath (48)**

A group of captured Death Eaters are marched right by us, cursing and protesting. I look at my family.

"Let's leave the victors to celebrate with butter beer and flower wreaths," I tell them quietly. "We have no business here. The sooner we disappear the better. We're lucky no one has arrested us yet. Voldemort..." I speak the name on purpose even though Draco stares at me aghast. "Voldemort may be dead, but the new rulers have as little sympathy for us as he had. We should go."

Like thieves in the night we slink away from exultation and mourning until we reach the apparition wards.

**

* * *

100. Owl (93)**

Malfoy Manor, May 9th

The large, grey Ministry owl sits on the back of our dining chair and eyes us suspiciously while I open the package. My veins pump ice water: this can only be the warrant that banishes me back to the hell of Azkaban.

To my surprise a wand carved from pale wood clatters onto the table.

"My wand, " cries Draco happily and grabs his lost possession.

I unfold a letter "... hereby return to Draco Malfoy his wand and invite the Malfoy family to the Ministry on the 13th of May to convey upon Narcissa Malfoy an Order of Merlin, second class, for her great services to the cause of freedom…"

My wife and I stare at each other in shocked disbelief – for the first time in years the future seems hopeful again.


End file.
